


Green Swamp, Blue Sky

by draculard



Series: Yoda Fucks [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Also physical dirtiness because it's a swamp, And Yoda is not clean, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Loneliness, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Planet Dagobah (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Purrgils, Smut, Yoda has a vibrating cock, face fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: The purrgils take the Chimaera through the Unknown Regions, passing over Dagobah along the way.Yoda nurses the lone survivor back to health and learns to shed some of his own loneliness and sorrow along the way.
Relationships: Yoda/Thrawn
Series: Yoda Fucks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107068
Comments: 23
Kudos: 16





	Green Swamp, Blue Sky

When the Imperial Star Destroyer appeared over Dagobah, Yoda thought for one split-second that he had finally been caught. It took him a moment to process the purrgils which surrounded the ship, and a moment longer to realize that — whether the purrgils had damaged it or whether it had been destroyed in battle — the Star Destroyer, with its unique hull painting, was falling apart. 

He watched as debris scattered over the atmosphere over Dagobah, most of it eaten up long before it reached his swamp. High above him, the Star Destroyer moved on, the flock of purrgils guiding it away. But one purrgil, Yoda noticed, stayed behind.

And it was moving closer.

Squinting at the sky, Yoda stamped his walking stick against the swamp mud all around him. Purrgils were strange creatures — some of the Jedi had once believed them to be sacred, with a modicum of Force-sensitivity that could not be ignored. If this purrgil was heading to him, then it must be because the Force willed it.

But why would the Force, after all he had been through and all the terrible things he had seen, connect him with a Star Destroyer?

The purrgil was still several hundred yards above the swamp when its tentacles unfurled, slowly and gracefully, and dropped something down into the muddy waters below. Yoda watched it fall, realizing only a moment before it was too late that the object hurtling toward the ground was not an object at all, but a limp body dressed in white. 

With a surge of adrenaline, Yoda jumped off the mossy log he was sitting on and held his hands up high, stretching out to the Force with a ferocity he hadn’t shown in years. The body’s trajectory slowed — not quite coming to a halt in mid-air, but slowing down just enough that when he hit the water, the falling Imperial would not die upon impact.

The purrgil wailed overhead, turning its mass away from Dagobah now that its task was gone. Yoda scarcely noticed it go; he squinted as the body hit the water with a splash and disappeared beneath the surface at once. 

It took every bit of his concentration, especially after so many years meditating and communing with the Force but not physically bending it to his will — but with effort, Yoda managed to keep a grasp on the body as it sank into the swamp, and gradually, the descent slowed … then stopped … and then, too slowly for comfort, Yoda was able to draw it back to the surface.

When the body broke through the muddy water, Yoda was waiting to bring it to shore.

* * *

The Imperial was still breathing, but his pulse was weak and thready, and even without the Force, Yoda could see areas where the purrgils’ acidic tentacles and iron grasp had damaged the man’s body. The uniform was unfamiliar to him — it didn’t match anything Yoda remembered from the Clone Wars — and the man’s species was unfamiliar, as well.

He floated the Imperial to the little hut he’d made out of his escape pod years ago, and as he did so, Yoda stretched out to the Force, seeking any information he could find. He laid the Imperial on a low bench made of dried mud, examining him closely.

His skin was blue, but he wasn’t a Pantoran or Wroonian. His eyes, when Yoda pried his eyelids back to see, were red and seemed almost to glow. 

And he was … _handsome_.

Heart thudding, Yoda turned away from the Imperial. It was his loneliness talking. For years, he had lived in solitude on this planet, with no one to talk to except Qui-Gon’s ghost — and Qui-Gon had appeared less and less frequently over the years, coming to Yoda only when it was necessary to bring him news of the Skywalker twins. 

There was nothing handsome about anyone who worked for Palpatine, Yoda told himself firmly. But if the last few years of the Republic had taught him anything, it was that anyone could be deceived by the Dark Side … and whoever this man was, the Force had guided him here for a reason.

With this in mind, Yoda calmed the fluttering feeling in his stomach and turned back to the Imperial. Reaching out to the Force, he got a sense of an alien mind so unlike his that it was almost impossible to read … and yet, among the flickers of muted emotion, he caught something so intensely familiar that he might have been staring at his own reflection.

He swallowed past a dry throat and approached the Imperial.

“Up you wake,” he said, and smacked the Imperial with his stick. 

There was a flicker of consciousness inside the Imperial’s mind; with a quiet whimper, the Imperial turned his head away from Yoda, sleepily evading the unforgiving whack of the stick. On the second sharp blow, his eyes snapped open, but he didn’t sit up.

He stared at Yoda, not seeming to comprehend what he saw. After a long moment, his eyes drifted around the hut, taking in the weathered frame of the escape pod and the structures Yoda had built inside and around it, expanding his shelter until it included multiple rooms and furniture. The Imperial’s eyes landed, much to Yoda’s surprise, on something he’d grown so used to that he’d forgotten they were there: mud sculptures he’d made of all his old friends.

He turned to look at them, then at the Imperial, who was staring at each structure with interest. 

“Where … am I?” the Imperial asked, his voice hoarse.

“Mmm, like to know, would you?” said Yoda. 

The Imperial narrowed his eyes at Yoda, but didn’t respond immediately. He cast his gaze around the hut again and tried to sit up, only to collapse back against the bench. 

“Where is my ship?” he asked.

Yoda felt a flicker of sympathy and let his mask of inhospitality drop for a moment. Gently, he put a hand on the Imperial’s shoulder, holding him down. “Wounded, you are,” he said in a soft voice. “Tend to your wounds, I will.”

The Imperial’s eyes blazed, but Yoda wasn’t afraid. Through the Force, he could read the expression in them, and knew the Imperial was no danger to him. No, the Imperial wasn’t planning an attack … his eyes blazed because he, like Yoda, was lonely. He, like Yoda, craved another person’s touch.

Perhaps, Yoda thought, the purrgils had brought them together for a reason.

He dropped his hands to the Imperial’s tunic, careful not to brush against the places where the purrgils’ acid had seared his skin.

“Your name, what is? Yes, hrmm,” said Yoda.

The Imperial went still at his touch. He studied Yoda’s face with a barely-disguised neediness.

“Thrawn,” he said softly. His eyes raked up and down Yoda’s body. “And you?”

Yoda’s heart thudded in his chest. He shouldn’t answer, he knew. But his mouth moved against his will; he felt compelled to speak.

“Yoda, my name is,” he said. “Hrmm.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Their eyes were locked on each other with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. Although he barely knew this stranger, Yoda felt an immediate kinship with him — a spark, as if they’d always been meant to meet like this.

As if the Force had willed it.

He ducked his head with a dark green blush (on account of if you mix red with green, I'm not sure what you get. I never took art).

“Undress you now, I will,” he murmured shyly. “If permit it, you do.”

Thrawn’s eyes blazed. He nodded quietly, leaning back against the mud shelf he was lying on. When Yoda reached for his swamp-stained collar, Thrawn lifted his chin and bared his throat, a faint flush appearing on his cheeks. 

“Covered in swamp gunk, you are,” Yoda said, running a hand through Thrawn’s mud-caked raven locks. 

“You’ll just have to clean me up, then,” Thrawn whispered.

Yoda’s eyes glinted. He leaned in close, bringing his lips almost to Thrawn’s ear.

“Like you dirty, I do,” he said. 

He pulled away slowly, trailing his hand back down Thrawn’s chest. Yoda teased each button on Thrawn’s tunic out of its hole, taking his time and running his green little fingers tantalizingly along the edge of each one. When each button was undone, Yoda ran his hands along the open line of Thrawn’s tunic, letting his fingers brush so lightly against Thrawn’s skin that it was little more than a faintly-noticeable tickle.

Thrawn’s breath hitched, his eyes drifting shut at Yoda’s touch. 

“Want me, do you?” Yoda asked.

“Yes,” Thrawn breathed, shameless in his need.

“Mm, yes, thirsty you are,” Yoda said. 

“ _So_ thirsty,” Thrawn said, his hips shifting against the mud-bench. 

It had been [research how many years Yoda was in exile and put it here, Drac] years since Yoda had touched another sentient being. Yes, he had his mud sculptures that he’d made of his friends, but there were only so many times that you could explore Ki-Adi-Mundi’s mud-slick holes before you realized that the real hole was in your heart all along. This was different; Thrawn’s skin was warm and solid beneath his hand, and his figure was so well-muscled and firm that Yoda just knew it would be a delight to sink into him.

He cast a beady eye at his mud sculptures. He would need them no longer.

Hastily, he unzipped his robes (I guess) and pulled out his cock. Thrawn’s eyes widened at the sight of it. 

“Like what you see, do you?” Yoda purred, stroking himself. He watched his own cock grow beneath his hand, until it was easily twelve inches long (small for his species, but Thrawn didn’t need to know that) and had turned a lovely shade of puce. “Mouth-watering, it is,” Yoda said.

Thrawn nodded, too hungry for Yoda’s cock to speak. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“Seen nothing yet, have you,” Yoda said. He moved forward with his cock bobbing before him and climbed up on the shelf with Thrawn, tugging at the injured Imperial’s trousers. Thrawn was half-hard from watching Yoda touch himself, and his cock twitched against his thigh as Yoda dragged his trousers down.

“Going commando, you are,” Yoda noted. “A slut you are, hmm? Let everyone in the Empire fuck you, you do.”

Thrawn blushed deeply, but to Yoda’s surprise, he nodded at once — eager to say or do anything, so long as Yoda didn’t leave him high and dry. He brought his hands up and rested them on Yoda’s narrow green hips, tugging him closer, until their cocks were touching. Blue upon green. 

Something stirred in Yoda at that, a powerful need that he couldn’t resist. He pressed himself against Thrawn’s chest and captured the Imperial’s lips with his own. His fingers twisted in Thrawn’s filthy hair, tugging hard enough to elicit a hiss of pain. Their teeth clashed, and then Thrawn’s mouth opened beneath his, hot and wet and messy.

“Fuck me,” Thrawn breathed. 

Yoda rocked his hips and found that Thrawn’s cock was fully hard now, lying flush against his stomach. 

“Take it up the ass, you will,” Yoda said. He rocked his hips again and felt Thrawn squirm beneath him, leaning into the friction as much as he could with Yoda’s hand in his hair, holding him back. “My big green cock you will suck, slut. Eh heh heh heh.”

Thrawn nodded as much as he could, his eyes closed and his lips falling open in need. Yoda crawled up Thrawn’s chest and knelt there, his stubby green legs pressing down on Thrawn’s shoulder and his hands fisted in Thrawn’s hair. He thrust himself into Thrawn’s mouth, letting that hot, wet mouth close around him with a grunt of pleasure.

This was _so_ much better than Ki-Adi-Mundi’s mud hole.

Yoda fucked himself into Thrawn’s mouth, forcing the first eight inches of himself down Thrawn’s throat and then stopping, pulling out again, fucking himself down. At the base of his cock, a smattering of enlarged pores began to ooze a slick greenish oil that smelled of sex. Yoda took one hand out of Thrawn’s hair to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock, working that oil up his length, letting Thrawn taste him on his tongue.

Only when Thrawn’s lips were swollen and his face was slick with his own saliva and Yoda’s fuck-oil did Yoda pull away. He moved back down Thrawn’s body, breathing heavily with desire, and positioned himself between Thrawn’s legs.

Thrawn parted his legs for Yoda at once, revealing a tight, perfectly-waxed hole that looked like it had been hand-made by the gods specifically for Yoda’s thick green cock. His ears twitched in delight at the sight of it.

“Don’t prepare me,” Thrawn gasped, throwing his head back against the mud shelf. “Fuck me raw.”

Yoda almost came right there and then, but by the power of the Force and his years of Jedi training, he managed to resist. Plus he’d built up a lot of stamina over the years with his mud sculptures. He guided Thrawn’s legs up, bending them at the knee, and lined himself up with Thrawn’s hole.

He pushed inside Thrawn rough and hard, not pausing or easing inside to spare him the pain. His fuck-oil made the passage slimier than it normally would have been for Thrawn, and that would have to do. Only when he was fully sheathed inside Thrawn’s hot, tight body did Yoda pause for breath. Thrawn gasped and moaned, writhing around him; Yoda’s twelve-inch cock was pressed hard against his prostate, eliciting sparks of unfathomable pleasure that had Thrawn desperately moving his hips, trying to fuck himself against Yoda’s cock.

But Yoda, despite this beautiful friction and warmth, didn’t move.

He closed his eyes, concentrating. There was something about him that Thrawn didn’t know. A special power gifted to him by the Force. It was a gift only the most talented of Jedi could learn to wield. Obi-Wan had never mastered; nor had Anakin Skywalker, or Count Dooku, or any of the fine men who came before them. In all his centuries on the Jedi Council, Yoda had only ever known one Jedi who mastered this skill, and that was himself.

He reached out to the Force, concentrated with all his might, and…

Made his cock vibrate inside Thrawn.

A full-body flush took Thrawn over from head to toe. His mouth fell open, a loud, keening wail of pleasure escaping him as Yoda’s cock vibrated against his prostate.

He’d already come for the first time when Yoda started to thrust inside him, moving in and out of Thrawn’s body with skill and ease as his cock vibrated — and in the next five minutes, Thrawn came again and again, until he was orgasming dry.

And Yoda wasn’t far behind him. He spilled his green seed deep inside Thrawn’s hot blue ass, and only then, when Thrawn was gasping and crying from overstimulation, did Yoda let the vibrations cease. He pulled out slowly, barely able to muster the energy, and collapsed alongside Thrawn on the mud shelf.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. There was no sound in Yoda’s hut except for their ragged breathing.

“Like my vibrating swamp dick, you do,” Yoda said at last.

Thrawn wiped the sweat and mud out of his eyes shakily and gave a nod. Yoda smiled at him, and after a long moment, the smile became soft and tender. He wrapped his green fingers around Thrawn’s and held the other man’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently.

“Glad the purrgils dropped you here, I am,” Yoda said. “Not so lonely now, we are.”

“No,” Thrawn agreed, sharing Yoda’s smile. “Not so lonely at all.”


End file.
